The Republic of Ireland
by TheIrishPixie
Summary: A collection of one-shots about England's elder brother Ireland throughout history and in modern times. Rated T- for Ireland's foul mouth. Requests are welcome.


_The earth is a diverse place, complete with many nations of different cultures, traditions and beliefs. Those nations in turn are filled with people, who move the world around with their advances and discoveries- and so the digital age has been brought about. Yet with all this technology, anomalies exist unbeknownst to the average man. Personifications of these mighty nations exist, and have existed for hundreds, some thousands of years, each carrying a rich history and economic burdens on their shoulders. The Republic of Ireland (or simply Ireland) is just one of these beings**.**_

* * *

_**World Meeting, 2015.**_

"Enough! We are just going around in circles now, does anyone actually have an idea to fix this problem!?" Germany bellowed over the separate arguments taking place in the room, effectively quieting everyone. It was very much apparent that no one did, instead a number of blank faces stared back at the irritated German.

"I don't see any bright ideas from you either," England commented, shooting Germany a glare. A few moments of silence passed after a quiet 'Oh snap' and knowing it unwise to argue with the sharp-tongued nation, Germany simply sighed and sat back down.

"I thought my idea was pretty awesome," a blond, bespectacled nation added, defending his unrecognised idea.

"Oh really? And where the bloody hell are we going to find a giant superhero, America!?" questioned England incredulously.

"Well if we could engineer one it would not be such a bad idea," Japan piped up.

The meeting was following its usual layout, and it disappointed Ireland just a little. It seemed they just came together to continuously argue about...whatever issue it was they were talking about, he had stopped listening after the fist five minutes. 'Cue the Swiss-cheese' he thought as the said nation berated the Japanese man. All he wanted right now was to go back home, slag his government a little bit, drink some port, watch Fair City and have a nice cuppa tae*. Instead he was in a conference room listening to a bunch of gobshites*, although to be fair he was quite fond of most of them.

It was hard not to be, considering how long they have lived alongside one another. In fact the only people he ever really had a scrap with were his brothers, and he didn't hate them either. Maybe it was because they were family, or because holding a life-consuming grudge seemed pointless to him, but they were forgiven. Ireland would even say they were getting along with each other as of late. He was nowhere near having tea and biscuits with England and his Queen though, but maybe one day just for the craic* he might. Might.

After all his younger brother lived upon his high horse, seemingly always looking down upon him. When Ireland was Pagan, England flaunted his Catholicism, when Ireland became a Catholic, his brothers were Protestant all of a sudden. When Ireland fought back against England's invasions and plantations, he was 'barbaric'- and when he did not he was 'pathetic'. It was always hard to win with the Englishman. Ironically, he was also proud of England. When they were both small he never would have guessed that the blonde nation would become an empire, let alone strong enough to keep him down. Ireland's younger self definitely overestimated his own older self's strength. To this day he knew England's tyranny over him was hate, why the nation had loathed him he didn't know. He would admit that he was driven to hate England just as much back then too. Nowadays he liked to think they had a love/hate relationship.

Wales was an enigma to the loud, cheerful Irishman. He was quiet, didn't say much and seemed to have his nose constantly stuck in a book. When he spoke it seemed it was to offer his logical and helpful input to the rest of the Kirkland clan. The Irishman could not for the life of him remember his last conversation with Wales, any time he tried he was met with a curt nod to his statements. To be perfectly honest, Ireland had no idea what Wales actually did as a country. He knew that there was coal... and that he liked dragons. Maybe that was simply due to his own ignorance, or his older brother just did not want him in his business for whatever reason. Wasn't St. Patrick Welsh? Ah well, what people don't know wont kill them.

Northern Ireland was a relatively knew addition to his brothers- a personification since the treaty was signed. Once a part of him he supposed, but also part of England and Scotland. He was a teenager, in nations standards anyway- and he was a moody little fecker indeed. North had no clue whether he was coming or going, Irish or English, Protestant or Catholic. Ireland wished he would join him again, but it was doubtful that would ever happen. Ireland and North had a rocky relationship, sometimes North seemed to idolise him and other times he treated Ireland like he killed his dog or something. Which for the record he did not, Ireland loved dogs, he had one himself. His Irish Wolfhound Cú Chulainn.

Scotland was Ireland's eldest brother. Personality wise they were probably the most similar, but Scotland had a much bigger temper and was much more brash. He was also the only brother Ireland had that was not a complete and utter lightweight. You would think a shared love for the oul' drink would bridge the gap between them, but it did not- well at least not entirely. Ireland could remember the Ulster plantation, and England's people weren't the only invaders... or 'settlers' as his brothers referred to them. Still he would not deny that his younger self idolised Scotland. He was brave, courageous and and could make even a skirt- or kilt as he called it- look manly as fuck. Although Scotland did have terrible instruments- bagpipes reminded Ireland of dying cats, though he thought it was fun to include them in his parades.

"Mr. Ireland what would you say?"

He was asked, but as he had zoned out he did not know by who. Caught up in his thoughts he was reminiscing about how once- and today he would be ashamed to admit it - out of pure malice and hatred over what they had done, he would have given anything to just

"-burn the feckers."

Upon realising what he had said aloud, he pulled himself back to the present, only to be met with gazes of bewilderment and horror. The country could not help but laugh out loud at the confusion that was caused.

"I need a drink," he stood and dismissed himself laughing heartily as he did so.

* * *

**Terms:**

**_Tae- _**Not spelled incorrectly, it is the Irish world for tea. We use it as slang in everyday language. :3

**_Fair City- _**Irish soap opera.

**_Gobshites- _**Idiots. Literally people who talk bullshit.

**_Craic-_** Irish word for fun, another very common slang word. Pronounced Crack.

**_Cú Chulainn-_** Irish legend. If you're interested you should read it.

**Note: _In my mind Scotland is older than Ireland. Settlers did come from Ireland thousands of years ago, however I see this as Hibernia/Ancient Ireland/Goidel, (whichever you think he should be) their father- not Ireland as such._**

**_Scotland was 'born' not long after settlers came from Ancient Ireland and in turn Wales. Ireland was'born' when their father died. As for England I have a headcanon that Britannia and Rome created him if you know what I mean. (So he's a half-brother in my mind)._**

**_You can interpret their ages or relationships however you want, but this how I imagine it myself. Originally I had planned to have North created by the plantation of Ulster, but decided the treaty made more sense to me. Just for you to keep in mind._**


End file.
